


Little Bird

by Azreael



Series: Little Bird [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2012-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 01:26:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azreael/pseuds/Azreael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames has to pack up his and Arthur's house after Arthur and their daughter are killed. Song fic for Little Bird by Imogen Heap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Bird

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Little Bird by Imogen Heap
> 
> This is a one-shot sequel to my one-shot Till Death Do Them Apart which is in this series. It can be read alone.

They were gone. Arthur was gone. The only thing that he had left was memories. So many beautiful memories to last half a lifetime. If Arthur was watching him now he could only imagine what he would say. " _Get up you asshole. Get on with your life. You have so much more to live for. Don't turn into Cobb!"_  Yes that is what Arthur would say. His Arthur.

**Little bird, little bird, little bird**

**What d'ya hear?**

**The clink of morning cheers**

**Orange juice concentrate**

**Crossword puzzles start to grate**

**One across**

**Four letter word, it's just not sitting**

He didn't want to do it at first but he just couldn't live here anymore. He couldn't live in the house that the three of them shared. He really just wanted to take what was needed and burn the rest but he knew that was not what he needed to do. He needed closure, to move on with his life. He packed up the house, easiest first. He packed the kitchen and living room first. That was where the least traces of them were. The little traces of them in those areas still hurt, like the open book that Arthur was reading or the scattered drawings in the corner from his daughter. But those weren't as hard as the rest.

**Little bird, little bird, little bird**

**What do you see?**

**A picture perfect scene**

**Two toned lawns are manicured**

**The gardens wearing haute couture**

**It's hiding something**

**It's trying too hard**

**Hiding something**

**It's trying too hard**

He packed his daughters room first. He sorted everything into piles, what to keep, what to donate, and what to just throw away. He had trouble with this. He wanted to keep everything, every trace of her, but he knew that he had to start to let go and that started here. He donated her clothes, crib, and most of her toys. He threw away any art supplies or little pieces of junk that she had insisted on keeping. He packed the teddy bear that she couldn't sleep at night without, any of her drawings, the lock of hair from her first hair cut, the tutu she danced around the house in pretending that she was a ballerina, the locket that Arthur gave her for their first Christmas as a family, everything that meant something in her short life.

**Little bird, little bird, little bird**

**Where are they now?**

**Day time tv lounge**

**A carriage clock, a mantelpiece**

**A family wiped up, J-cloth cleaned**

**Unsaid, festers in the throes of the sofa**

He did the bathrooms next. He threw everything away except for his stuff. He didn't need anything else.

Lastly he did their room. He packed his stuff first. He wasn't really careful with his stuff. He threw all of his clothes in boxes by type. Then he packed all of the bedding and junk in the nightstand; the pack of unused condoms and lube that will most likely never be. All of the rest of the furniture will go on the moving truck.

**Little bird, little bird, little bird**

**How are you feeling?**

**Like help in quarantine**

**Pearly whites, touch down smile**

**Absent creases round the eyes**

Then he had to do the hardest thing in the whole process, pack Arthur's things. He saved the worst for last. First he went to the closet. He neatly set all of his suits on the now bare mattress. He sorted through them. One pile to keep and one to donate. He knew that it was stupid to keep his suits but there were just some things that he couldn't let go of, at least not yet. In the end he only kept two of Arthur's favorites. Those were neatly folded and packed into a special suitcase like he knew Arthur would like them.

Then he moved on to Arthur's casual clothes. To the surprise of most people he did own a lot of casual t-shirts and jeans. The people he saw the most just happened to see him at work where he never wore anything less than a designer suit. Everything went into the donate pile except for his favorite Coca-Cola t-shirt and his "I'm with stupid" t-shirt. All of the jeans and the rest of his mismatched clothing went into the donate pile.

**Little bird, little bird, little bird**

**What can we do?**

**Think tank think rescue**

**Simon says, etch a sketch**

**Some encoded message only he would get**

**Quickly now**

**Cause this is not how it ends**

All of Arthur childhood memories and toys were kept. Eames would kill himself before he got rid of them. Eames was finally done packing. The whole process was done without a single tear shed. He was to numb to feel anything but sadness and regret that it had been them and not him. His lover and daughter should still be alive.

**Little bird, little bird, little bird**

**(Little bird, little bird, little bird)**

**Well I've got one more question**

**(Little bird, little bird, little bird)**

**And I swear I'll let it rest**

**(Little bird, little bird, little bird)**

**Well I've just one more question**

**(Little bird, little bird, little bird)**

**And I swear I'll let it rest**

He put everything into the car. The movers will come tomorrow to pick up the rest. He walked through the house one more time. This would be the last time he saw this house where he, his lover, and daughter shared all of those beautiful memories that was shatter all in one moment. He walked through the living room where he and Arthur used to sit and watch tv at night. He took one last glance at his daughter's room where there had been so much hope and joy for her and her future. The kitchen where he and Arthur made dinner together every night. The dinning room where the young family had never failed to make every dinner memorable. When he got back to the bedroom, he cried. His legs could not hold him any longer and he fell to the floor and cried. To him it felt like years. There was no use in living without them. But in reality it was only minutes. He quickly composed himself and continued back out the front door for the last time.

**One more question**

**I'll let it rest**

**I swear I'll let it rest**

**Got one more question**

**(And I swear I'll let it rest)**

**I've got one more question**

He closed the trunk to his car and got into the front seat. There was no hesitation has he put the key in the ignition, starting the machine that would take him away from here. He looked back once more at the house before driving away. Little does he know that he and his car will never make it to his new apartment. A drunk driver will go through a red light at an intersection the same time Eames is going through the green side. He will soon join his lover and daughter.

**Little bird, little bird, little bird**

**Where have you gone?**

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this when i was in a bad mood (if you couldn't tell). I got the idea when i fell asleep listening to this song but i wrote it a few days later on a ferry.


End file.
